Hidden Angel
by PhantomAngel042
Summary: Can Meg see beyond Erik's violent past to love him as he deserves? An ErikMeg fic, beginning just after the end of the ALW movie.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so I decided to start another story. I've always wanted to do and ErikMeg fic. This first chapter is really short, a tester, mostly, to see how you all respond. If I get at least five reviews, I will continue. Otherwise, I'm not going to waste my time. So, read and review, people. I don't own any of the characters, etc. Just read.

Dubious Beginnings

Fire, everywhere, all around; flames were burning away the memory of the splendid Opera House and raging through the minds of the mob that followed a small blond ballerina into the depths that harbored the arsonist, the Phantom of the Opera.

_Christine, where is Christine?_ Meg had wondered frantically as she waded through water waist high, into the lair that most had known existed, but had never seen. The soprano the girl was seeking was nowhere in sight, and Meg assumed that she had either fled with Raoul or had been taken by the Phantom. _Either way, I have to know_, the girl thought. The two had been best friends for many years, and Meg was not willing to let her go without a fight. Seeing no way to find Christine if she was with Raoul and had left already, Meg had decided to plunge further into the labyrinth to find he whom everyone hated and feared above all others, to discover Christine's fate.

Meg had reached the lair minutes before the rest of the murderous throng had, so she searched, quickly, for some sign of which way the Phantom had run. Pulling back a curtain, she found a room hidden from the rest of the chamber. On one of the dressers, a white mask lay gleaming in the lamp-light. She picked it up and galred at it, and almost dropped it just to see it shatter. Then she decided to take it with her to taunt him. Looking around, she sought out anything that might hint at where he had gone. There, against the wall, was a mirror, shattered, revealing a passageway behind. Meg reached back and grabbed a curtain that had fallen to the ground and covered the opening with it so no one else would discover it and follow. Then, without a second's hesitation, she dove into the all-consuming dark and pressed forward, searching for a man whom she gladly would have slaughtered. Black boots crossed easily over the threshold, and she was not to know for a long time that it had been a step which would alter the course of the rest of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though I've only gotten four reviews so far, I'm going to assume you like it... So, here's the second chapter. I've already gotten enough reviews to know that it's okay, so I won't bother giving quotas. I just hope you like it. I don't own the characters, etc.

Mixed Emotions

With long, angry strides Meg stormed through the corridors after the only man who could tell her where Christine had gone. Thoughts of revenge, and death, filled her normally tranquil mind, and they scared the girl, much as she hated the Phantom at the moment. She did not wish to ever feel so violent, but the man had destroyed the Opera House, the only home she had ever known, he had killed a man, and he had torn Christine's life to pieces. For that, Meg could never forgive him. No matter how much he said he loved Christine, he should have known she was too young, too fragile to withstand the pressure of such passion as he had shown her! She was not as strong as she had seemed, and he should have known! Rage consumed the girl, and she pushed on, determined to find the killer before he vanished into the cold night. For if he escaped into Paris, Meg knew he would never be found again, and she could not let him go without taking her revenge.

When the passage suddenly turned into a large, candle-lit cavern, the girl was shocked to find the man she hunted sitting on a bank of the subterranean lake, his head cradled in his hands, and her resolve weakened a little to see him, the figure of power and mystery, crippled by such agony. Then she remembered her purpose, and was once again hardened and angry.

"Phantom!" she called across the cavern. "What have you done with Christine?"

He slowly rose to his feet, and Meg saw from across the room that his eyes gleamed with tears. He turned to face her, and for the second time that night, she saw the hideous mockery of a human face that scarred him, the flesh raw and torn, and she shivered involuntarily, but refused to break eye contact. He slowly moved toward her, but there was no menace in his movements, just resignation, and a weariness that comes from losing everything one has ever cared for. So she held her ground, and eventually he was standing only feet in front of her. He stopped, looked at the girl for a long moment, and finally sighed deeply.

"Mademoiselle," he said softly, his voice rasping from having shed such agonized tears, "she did not choose me." Tears were falling silently again, and he moved as if to turn away. "She left with the Vicomte, a long time ago."

"Wait," Meg cried, "I do not understand. How can you be here, crying, when it is you who destroyed the lives of so many people this night, you who murdered Piangi, and Buquet, you who tore Christine's life apart? What right have you to feel so desperate, you monster?"

"I have no right. No right to feel this sadness, no right to live any longer. I loved her with everything that I am, and I never meant to hurt her. Everything I did was because of her, and she chose another. I have been betrayed, hunted, and hurt more than you will ever know. Do not come here and threaten me as you are. I would not have another life on my conscience this night. Get out, and leave me in peace. I will not be a threat any longer."

"Phantom," she said, more softly,"I did not know..." She held out the mask, and he took it gently, placing it on the ruins of the right side of his face.

"No one ever knew. No one will ever know. And my name is Erik... Ah, Mademoiselle Giry, tell your mother I thank her for everything she has done for me over the years. Tell her to take all my funds and rebuild the Opera House. There should be sufficient money to undo the damage I have caused."

"Erik... Your life funds? What shall you use to live off of?"

"It does not matter any more."

"But, Erik, you cannot make a living with your appearance, and without your funding-"

"I do not plan to make a living. I do not plan to live."

"But- but you can't! You're still young, yet! Surely-"

He turned on her, suddenly angry. "Don't you understand? I have nothing left to live for. Nothing! My life will be agony, day in, day out. I will face the wrath of everyone who knows of my existence for what I have done! Worse, I will live with the unbearable pain of having lost the only one I could ever love! How can you expect me to suffer through such a terrible fate? Do you hate me that much, to see me in never-ending torture, in wretched solitude forever? No, little Giry, I will not bear it any longer."

Meg's anger had almost completely faded in the face of such hopelessness. "Erik, you can't. I won't permit it. My mother worked for so long to keep you safe, and you can't waste all that effort now by throwing your life away. Come with me. I'll take you to her, and we'll help you."

"Do you not hate me any longer? What happened, little Giry? You came down here entirely ready to kill me yourself. I saw the anger in your eyes."

"Yes, well, as much as I blame you for all that has happened, I pity you more, I think. And you say you never meant to hurt Christine, and that she is safe now. Her being hurt is why I was so bent on revenge in the first place. But she's not. So let's go. I hid the entrance to this passage, but they are bloodthirsty and will be coming this way eventually."

"Who are 'they'?"

"The murderous throng that is hunting you even now through the bowels of this Opera House. Come, we must go, Erik!"

"Mademoiselle Giry, I can't-"

"Don't give me that!" Meg yelled, impatient. She reached out and grabbed his wrist. He looked up at her, shocked by the physical contact, and she turned and half-dragged him out of the cavern.

"Do you know where we're going?" Erik asked after a while. Meg stopped and shook her head. She was suddenly very dizzy, and very, very tired. Her head spun and her thoughts swam as she tried to shake off the exhaustion that was suddenly claiming her. "Well, we need to go this way, then. It's the only way out. Are you feeling well, little Giry?" She turned and looked at him for a moment, eyes blank, and collapsed. He reached out and caught her before she fell, then scooped her into his arms and continued walking for a long time until he hit fresh air, just as the sun began to rise over Paris.


	3. Chapter 3

I do believe it's about time for some romance to come nto play. Thanks for reading, I don't own the characters (even if I do have a marriage certificate with Gerry's name on it. He he.), enjoy!

Falling

Erik set Meg down on the front step of her home on the outskirts of Paris. He knocked on the door and waited a long moment, but no one answered the summons. He thought it strange that Madame Giry was not home, but set the thought aside to be dealt with later. He gently shook Meg awake, and she looked around, bleary-eyed, for a moment before she seemed to realize what was going on.

"Mademoiselle Giry, we are at your home, but there seems to be no one here. Can you get in?"

"Of course. It's always open around back." Erik hesitantly offered her his hand and she took it, standing up wearily. She looked up at his imposing figure almost shyly. "I know that you carried me here. I am... most grateful. I do not know what happened..."

"No thanks is necessary. Actually, it is I who should be thanking you. Had you not come around, I would most likely not be alive right now. Your intervention saved me from acting most irrationally, I believe."

"Erik, I know you regret some things that have happened in your life..." He laughed mirthlessly at this comment. "... but a man as brilliant as you should not be wasted with suicide."

"I will try to remember, little Giry. Now, it's a cold morning, and you need to get some sleep. I take my leave now. Good day, Mademoiselle."

"Wait, Erik, you can't leave!" Meg cried, grabbing his wrist. "Wherever will you go?"

"It really doesn't matter. Something will present itself."

"You can't even go back to the Opera House!" He flinched visibly at this remark. "Please, stay here. At least until my mother gets back and we can come to a reasonable permanent solution."

"I cannot possibly. If anyone saw me here... Your reputation would be irreparably ruined, I would be arrested, and you could be as well. It is not worth the risk."

"It is to me," Meg said softly.

"What, Mademoiselle?" He said warily, and she knew he had heard her.

"I am tired of you arguing with me. I always win anyway, in case you hadn't noticed. Please, come inside. It's too early for anyone to be about, so you won't be seen, and you'll be fine so long as you stay indoors."

Erik sighed heavily and watched as the girl turned away and walked around to the back of the house, obviously confident that he would follow her. After a long pause, he did follow her, and when he got inside she was already starting a fire in the huge fireplace.

"Don't you have any servants?" Erik wondered aloud.

"Servants?" Meg laughed. "As thought Mother and I are here often enough to need servants. We're always at the Opera House. Or at least, we were." A pained look crossed her face. "We'll need servants now that we'll be here so often, I suppose."

"I am sorry," Erik whispered passionately. "I did not mean for things to happen as they did. I meant to crash that damned chandelier to prove a point. I never meant to start the fire. It was my home as well, you know. The only home I ever knew. Your mother... she brought me there to live when I was very young. She had rescued me... from the Gypsy camp. I had been used as an... attraction at their fair. When I escaped, she rescued me, gave me the mask to protect myself. Though she is only a few years older than me, she is the only mother figure, the only true friend I have ever had. She means more to me than anyone will ever know."

"Oh, God, Erik, I never knew... She never spoke of you."

"Out of respect for my wishes. I asked her never to tell anyone of my identity. If everyone had known that I was only a mortal, only a man trapped within the walls of that Opera House... I would have been hunted down years ago."

"Oh, Erik," Meg whispered, coming closer to where he was standing next to the now-blazing fire. Hesitantly, she placed a hand on his bared cheek. He picked it up and brushed his lips across it, then turned and stalked out of the room. Meg sat down hard, thinking everything that had just happened over. Especially that kiss. He had kissed her hand, but why? She shivered at the remembered contact, and realized that it was not fear or repulsion that made her tremble. Surely... she was not falling for him. He was almost twenty years older than she, and he had just lost Christine, the only woman he said he could ever love. Perhaps... he was wrong? Meg sighed and stretched out along the couch, just as Erik had gone to lay in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.

Meg. She had touched Erik several times that day, never seeming to fear or loathe him. There had only been determination in those crystalline blue eyes... Erik felt something stirring in him that he had thought, with the loss of Christine, he would never feel again. But surely... he could not be falling for the girl. She still did not trust him, in any case. Sighing deeply, Erik turned over and stared at the ceiling, haunted by the thoughts of his lost life, his lost love, and of the new blue-eyed glimmer of hope who seemed to have just appeared on the future's horizon.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again. I don't own the characters and stuff. So don't sue me or anything. Just read. have a nice day!

Fire Rages

Both Erik and Meg were awakened by a knock at the door in the early afternoon. Meg answered it, praying that Erik would have enough sense to stay hidden. A policeman stood in the doorway, a piece of parchment in one hand, looking at the number beside the door.

"Do you live here, Mademoiselle?" he asked, face and voice tired but stern.

"Yes, of course, officer."

"Is your mother Hélen Giry?"

"Yes, Monsieur. Is there anything wrong?"

"I regret to be the one to inform you of this, but your mother is missing. She was last seen in the Opera Populaire as it was burning, and hasn't been sighted since." He sighed softly, his eyes showing real sorrow. "She is assumed dead."

"Oh, God!" Meg sobbed, tears flowing steadily down her face.

"I truly am sorry," the officer whispered, then turned and walked away. There were still many other house numbers, many other names on his list.

Meg shut the door, then turned her back to it and slid down to the floor, sobs wracking her body. Erik heard her from upstairs, and came down, approaching her slowly.

"What's wrong, little Giry?" he asked with real concern as he picked her up and carried her to the couch. He set her down gently, then sat next to her.

"My mother..." she sobbed after a moment. "They can't find her, after the fire. They think she's dead."

"Oh, mon dieu," Erik said, sadness choking his throat, tears welling in his eyes. "Are they sure?"

"No one has seen her since before the fire."

Erik buried his face in his hands, tears lingering unshed in his eyes, and thought for a long moment.

"The fire..." Meg whispered. "It was all your fault." She looked up, her tear-stained face filling with hatred. "If it were not for you, my mother would still be alive!"

"Mademoiselle, I assure you, I am just as hurt by this as-"

"No, you're not! She was not your mother, she was mine, and now she's dead because of you! Get out! You are not welcome here, now or ever!"

"As you wish," he said softly. He stood up stiffly, then opened the door and walked out. Meg waited until he had left and the door had shut behind him, then bean to weep again, drowning for the moment in her unbearable sorrow.

Erik, too, felt the pain of this loss. Almost in a daze, he wandered the streets of Paris, until he had come to the familiar neighborhood surrounding the Opera House. The acrid stench of smoke and charred remains filled the air, and within moments Erik was standing before the burnt-out shell of what had been, only a day before, the center of Paris' fine-art circuit. The once-glorious building was ruined beyond all hope of repair, the stained-glass windows blown out by the heat, the frame charred and black, the entire building warped by the ferocity of the blaze. It was utterly unsalvageable, and no one could have survived. Unless...

He paced quickly back down several streets until he found the hidden passage that led to the underground portions of the Opera Populaire. He quickly traversed it, and found himself in familiar territory. Within moments he was back in his old lair, and he stood for a moment, finally able, truly, to let it go, the life he had led here. He moved on after a few minutes, looking, listening for any indication of life in these dark, inanimate halls. After two hours of continual searching, he found what he was looking for. A light, a long way off in the darkness, and a cry for help. Silently, purposefully, he headed toward the sound, praying it would be the one he was searching for.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so I've got noothing to say. I really hope you're enjoying this. If I've screwed up majorly anywhere, let me know. I wrote all thirty-three pages of this fic in about ten hours... So, read and review, kids! Enjoy!

A Mistake Undone

Meg had long shed all the tears she was capable of giving, but he heavy weight of grief still crushed her chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to concentrate on anything but the sorrow. Her mother, the only one who had ever been there for her, her protector, her tutor, her strength, was gone. And it was entirely the fault of the man who she had found herself falling in love with. How could she have been so stupid? He was dangerous, a murderer, capable of any kind of violence! And after Christine, how could he ever love her?

In any case, none of it mattered. Her mother was dead, her life was ruined, and she had just banished her love. For, yes, she had admitted to herself, she loved him. Her chest constricted further at the thought of never seeing Erik again, either, until she remembered why she was so angry with him, and began to cry again, feeling utterly lost and completely confused. He had said that she was like a mother to him also... Could he be feeling as much pain as she? Did he feel as much sorrow as she did, over the loss of a love that had never even come to be, a mother, and a familiar lifestyle all in one terrible sweep? Suddenly, she felt that he had meant what he had said: the fire was never supposed to have happened. Which meant, though he was still responsible for starting the fire, he felt as much guilt as she felt anger. She had just sat up, still lost in thought but coming out of true grief, when there was another knock on the door.

Meg stopped for a moment, terrified of what news this second visitor might bring to her home, but answered the summons. She opened the door hesitantly, then almost fainted. For there, on the doorstep, was Madame Giry, clothing torn, hair mussed, tears in her eyes, but most definitely alive.

"Oh, God, Mother!" Meg cried as she threw herself upon Madame Giry, hugging her fiercely and kissing her tear-stained cheeks. "They told me you were dead!"

"And you believed them, child? How could a mere fire defeat your mother?" She laughed through her tears and hugged her daughter back, then broke away and held her by the shoulders. "Now, may we proceed inside so I may change? I do not wish to stand here all day, Meg."

"Yes, of course," Meg laughed. "I shall draw you a bath."

"Ah, goodness, that would be good after having been trapped beneath the Opera House for so long."

"Yes, Mother, how did you get out? Where have you been?"

"Questions will have to wait until after I've bathed, love. I am weary."

"Yes, of course," Meg said again, and went to fetch the water.

After Madame Giry had bathed and changed, the two sat on the couch as Madame Giry recounted her tale.

"During the chandelier crash, I sought out Erik, to try and bring him to his senses. I was intercepted by Raoul, who was frantic about Christine's well-being, as she had been taken by the Phantom. I took him with me to find Erik, but I realized that with the chaos happening upstairs, you had no idea where I had gone to, so I told Raoul where to go and turned back, to find you. By the time I reached the upper levels again, though, everything was ablaze. I prayed that you had already left, for anyone caught in that inferno was doomed to a terrible death. So I returned to the lower levels, to see if I could find anyone else, or seek a way out. By the time I reached Erik's lair, the mob had already swept through, and destroyed everything. They were all already gone, though I have no idea where to, and I was a a loss as to where to go next. I had never really ventured through Erik's territories before, and I had no indication as to where there might be an exit. So, for hours, I wandered through the darkness with only a lamp I had picked up at Erik's lair to light my way. I finally gave up searching and hoped that a rescue party would be arranged. So, I found a room in what I guessed to be about the middle of the Opera House, sat down, and simply called for help every five minuted or so. Just a few hours ago... a man came through, looking for me, apparently, and found me. He led me through the labyrinth of dark passages, and we finally came outside. He left, without a word, and I made my way here. Megan, I'm so sorry about the grief you must have gone through. If I'd had a way to get a message to you, I would have. Oh, goodness, I just realized this story may have been a bit confusing for you, not knowing that the Phantom's name is Erik."

"I already knew," Meg said softly, still processing everything she'd been told. A man came through looking for her... It could only have been Erik.

"What? How? He never told anyone."

"He... rescued me, too. Or maybe, I saved him. I really don't understand what happened." She went through her own tale, and Madame Giry looked at her with curiosity, intrigued that Erik had opened up to Meg so much.

"So, do you know where he is now?" Madame Giry asked.

"No, I thought you would know. When... when I thought you were dead, I blamed Erik, because he had started the fire which I believed to have killed you. I... I banished him. I told him he was never welcome here again. I was hoping you would know where he went, since it is he who saved you."

"I never told you that," Madame Giry responded.

"I know, but I guessed, when he left in such a hurry, and you appeared here hours later."

"What will you do now? You have hurt him more than you know, Meg. If you do not find him, if one of us does not find him, he will be gone."

"I know, but how can we hope to track down the Phantom of the Opera when he does not wish to be found?"

"I don't know, but we have to try." Both women grabbed their overcoats, and they talked quietly as they headed out into the cold afternoon sunshine.


	6. Chapter 6

All right, here's Chapter 6. I hope you're liking it. Thank you to the very few people who are reviewing... I don't know what the rest of you are doing, but a shout out every once in a while would be nice! Oh, well, I don't own any of the characters, read and review, okay? Yes.

Everything Changes

Erik had long ago given up hope of being forgiven by Meg. He had seen the hatred that glowed in her eyes only one other time: when he had threatened Christine with the choice between her lover's life and her own happy future. He had seen it then, that passionate loathing that offered no redemption, ever, and recognized it in Meg's glare. Even if he... loved her, she would never forgive him. He hoped that he had eased her pain by returning her mother, however, and there was only one other thing he knew of that would make Meg's life better. He could rebuild the Opera House, grander than before, and give the girl's life back.

So he did. He took every scrap of the pension he had received through his masquerade as the Phantom of the Opera and put it toward the planning, designing, and construction of the new Opera Populaire. He took on a new name, Monsieur Marquette, and put forth his best effort to put his old life behind him; memories of his lost loves, his identity as the Phantom of the Opera, and everyone he had ever cared for disappeared in the strength of his will to move on.

Meg, however, could never forget, as hard as she tried, how deeply she had fallen for his dark, mysterious character, drawn to the pain and despair she saw in him.

"Mother, do you have any idea what has happened to Erik? Truly?" she asked Madame Giry, months after their failed search for him that had lasted for days.

"No, Meg," she sighed. "If I knew, I promise I would tell you. He has not spoken to me since the night after the fire."

"I must find him," Meg whispered, but her mother heard her.

"No, Meg. You must forget him. If he does not wish to be found, you will never hear of him again. If he wishes to make himself known to either of us... he has his ways. You must forget him, forget your life at the Opera House. You are getting older, Meg, and you are well into your marriageable years, but no one has offered for your hand. If you are to be suitably wed, you must grow up, learn to be a lady. I have written to your cousin who lives on the other side of Paris. She has agreed to take you in, train you in the ways of society, and introduce you to prospective suitors. I had really hoped it would not come to this, but your ballerina days are over, and I will not have you follow in my footsteps. I will see you happily married, my dear. I want you to have everything that I never did."

"Mother, no! How can you expect me to give up everything I've ever known, to live with family that I have never even met? What if I do not wish to become a lady!" she spat, frantic that her mother would really send her away to live a life she had never desired.

"Megan, be reasonable. You are no longer a child, and you must face this new world. It is harsh, I know, and many dreams are shattered here, but you will forgive me in time. Now, go pack your things. The coach will be here for you first thing in the morning."

Meg ran, crying uncontrollably, into her room, and lay prone on her bed for many long hours. She gave in, finally, and did as her mother asked, meek and resigned. She did not sleep at all that night, and was silently sitting on the couch by the front door with her belongings when the coachman called for her the next morning.

"Goodbye, Mother," she said tiredly.

"Oh, my darling, do not hate me," Madame Giry said. "Everything will be righted, I promise you. Go, now, and live happily. I will miss you." She kissed her daughter's cheek, hugged her tightly, and whispered into her ear, "I love you, Meg. I always will." Meg's eyes widened at the words that she had never heard her stern mother say, and hugged her back.

"I love you too, Mother," she whispered, holding back tears. Then she turned and walked down the path to the street, climbed into the coach, and waved a solemn goodbye. The matching black team was spurred onward, and Meg left her entire life behind, looking only forward into the long road that lay ahead.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, umm, here's Chapter 7 for you. Poor Meg, I think. But it'll all turn out all right. Maybe. We'll see. Hehehe... I own none of the characters, etc, etc...

An Unexpected Acquaintence

The first days that Meg spent with her new cousin, Dorotée, were the most awkward of Meg's life. Eventually, however, she settled into her new routines, and even began to befriend her cousin. Dorotée was very pretty, with waist-length, curling chestnut hair and deep blue eyes that sparkled merrily. She was petite and cocky, and she seemed to have a smile ready for everyone, always. The only fault that Meg could find in her was that she was a relentless tease, and she flirted constantly with anyone who had two legs and was male. So, of course, every man in the vicinity fawned over her, though she had not yet accepted any of their marriage proposals.

When Meg asked her why she did not simply choose one and settle down, she responded, "Why? It's just too much fun to lead them all around on a leash!"

"But don't you just want to settle down, start a family? Don't you wish to fall in love?"

"I have already fallen in love," Dorotée responded, sobering for a moment, "but I lost him some time ago. My only hope is that he will someday forgive me. So, I will either wait for him or I shall die alone."

"Well, who is it?" Meg asked impatiently.

"I don't think I shall tell you yet. Come, let's go shopping. I must present you to society this Friday, and you really have nothing suitable to wear, darling. Let's go!"

They spent the rest of the afternoon finding Meg every garment she could possibly ever need for the party and much more. By the end of the day, she had the party gown, ten summer dresses, five outrageous hats that Dorotée had insisted upon, every kind of undergarment, and hair ribbons, gloves, shawls, parasols and petticoats to match everything.

"However shall I repay you for all this?" Meg asked resignedly.

"Pay? Why ever should you pay? Don't look at me like that. Think of them as... make-up birthday and Christmas gifts, for the last twenty years."

"I can't accept-"

"Oh, for goodness' sake! Of course you can! Now, we need to- Oh, dear."

"What?" Meg asked, turning to look at what Dorotée was staring at. It was a man. A very tall, extremely handsome man, walking toward them down the street. As he reached them, he greeted Dorotée informally, showing that they were already acquainted.

"Good afternoon, Dorotée. It's been a long time... I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, I do not believe we have been introduced."

"Oh, Monsieur Viscount, allow me to introduce my cousin, Megan Giry. She used to perform in the old Opera House, you know. Meg, this is Monsieur Viscount Phillipe de Bovée. He is an old friend of my family's. We grew up together. I warn you, he is as much a pest now as he ever was, despite his charms."

"Oh, surely you don't believe that?" Phillipe responded, eyes bright as he picked up Meg's hand and kissed it softly, a little too slowly to be considered simply a formal greeting.

"I'm afraid I do tend to believe her, Viscount," Meg said teasingly, blushing at the contact.

"Well, you shall simply have to get to know me better at the gala this Friday. You are coming, I expect?" he asked Dorotée.

"Of course," she responded cooly. "It is where I intend to introduce Meg to all your riotous male friends so you can all vie for her attention. If you are lucky, she may deign to look you over," she teased.

"Oh, I doubt she will be so aloof." He glanced at Meg appreciatively. "I shall see you there. Save me a dance, Mademoiselle Giry. I should like to know if a ballerina can waltz better than my darling Dorotée here. Adieu, mon cheries." He walked past them briskly, and the two girls looked at each other incredulously before turning and walking, arm in arm, back to Dorotée's home.


	8. Chapter 8

Huh. A little intrugue. Well, on we go. I don't own the characters (except maybe Dorotée). that's all...

New Discoveries

The party was unlike anything Meg had ever experienced before, even in the days of wild opening-night festivities at the Opera House. There was light and laughter everywhere she turned, young men and women dancing, chatting, flirting, all in a riot of resplendent color and fashion. She felt strange in her gown, never having been put into such fine garments before. It was pale blue, made of a soft material that caught light and reflected it back in shimmering silver glints. The style was long and flowing, the neckline low and revealing, the sleeves full, cascading around her forearms, the train skimming along inches behind her delicate heels. I had taken her breath away in the shop where she had found it, and it was getting many glances now, resting as it did upon Meg's trim figure. She blushed again under the gaze of a strange young man who was eyeing her from across the room.

"Dorotée, what am I supposed to do?" she asked after her cousin had made all necessary introductions.

"What? Oh, nothing. This is a party, Meg. Go have fun. Flirt a little, laugh a little. Find yourself a sweetheart. That's what it's for, after all. Go on, don't be shy! You look ravishing. Have you seen some of the looks you've been getting? There are plenty of men who would drop to their knees and beg to take you home. Just don't get caught alone with any of them. Circumstances could get... scandalous very quickly. Go!"

Dorotée skimmed off to join a group of her friends, laughing and talking merrily. Meg scanned the room for familiar faces, but could find none in the crowd of young strangers. Seeing one of the chaperones along the wall glaring at her warily, she sighed and turned around, looking for somewhere to sit in peace. She wished desperately that Christine were her with her now, but she had received only one letter since the fire three years ago, saying that Christine was safe and happily married to Raoul, but that, though she missed Meg sorely, she could never return to Paris. So, Meg was alone, at a party featuring all the sweet young things of upper-class society Paris, and she was looking for somewhere to sit it all out. _I am hopeless, aren't I?_ she thought as she turned away from yet another occupied room. And ran straight into the black-clothed chest of a tall young man.

"Pardon me, Monsieur," she muttered, "I did not see you there."

"There is nothing to pardon, little ballerina. I was hoping to run into you here." He chuckled. "Though, not quite this literally."

"Viscount!" Meg gasped. "What a surprise. I'm delighted to speak with you again."

"Please, call me Phillipe."

"Phillipe... I... I apologize again for running into you."

"No apology necessary, Mademoiselle, I assure you."

"Oh, please, call me Megan. Or Meg, if you prefer."

"Little Meg," he murmured as he kissed her hand. "Shall we dance?" She nodded, and he pulled her onto the dance floor as the orchestra struck up a waltz. The two danced quietly for a long time, gazing at each other intently. After a moment, Meg looked away, blushing.

"You dance beautifully, little ballerina. I expected you would. I thought about you all week."

"You thought... about me?" He nodded, his gaze intense, waiting for her response. "I thought about you, too." She said quietly after a moment. They danced for another two songs, then escaped to the balcony when Meg mentioned she was becoming tired.

"It's a beautiful evening," Meg commented as they stepped into the cool summer air.

"Mm. Beautiful," Phillipe answered softly. Meg turned to look at him and found him gazing at her. She turned away quickly.

"Phillipe, I-." She was cut off as he placed his hands on top of hers, then picked them up and held them to his chest. She was facing him, her head inches beneath his own, and she found she could not speak as he slowly bent down to place his lips over hers. He kissed her softly, tenderly, almost like a question. She sensed his hesitancy and kissed back, breathless with wonder at the emotions that were flooding her. He pulled away shortly, and looked at her, longingly.

"Meg, I want to ask permission to court you. I know I have to ask your guardian, but first I want to make sure that you will not refuse me."

"I would not refuse you," Meg said after she had recovered use of her senses.

"Good," he said, kissing her quickly again. "Then we need to get back inside before we're caught. I would not want for you to get into trouble, being caught out here with a rogue like me." He grinned, and she could not help but smile back. "I will call upon you tomorrow, if I am not denied the privilege of seeing you again by your guardian."

They went back inside and attempted to hide their glances for the rest of the night, talking and laughing with everyone else, never showing particular favorites, until it was finally time to go home. Meg rode in silence most of the way, listening to her cousin chatter about her flirtations and the newest jokes she had heard and all the latest gossip. Meg was only half-listening, lost in thought about the new emotions she had just uncovered with Phillipe, about the shock of her first kiss, and, somewhere subconsciously where Meg could deny the thought's existence, the idea that, somehow, it was not as spectacular as it would have been with her Phantom.


	9. Chapter 9

Oh-ho, it gets interesting. Where is Erik all this time? Huh. He''ll be back. I don't own the characters, except Dorotée and Philippe (no relation to Phillipe de Chagny, by the way. NONE.) That's all. R&R, yah?

A Proposal

So it was, that for months, Phillipe called upon Meg, courting her constantly. They went everywhere together; to parties, to dinners, to the park on long autumn afternoons. Dorotée continually pushed her reluctant cousin into the relationship as it grew more serious, but she always seemed to be withdrawn, a little less lively, when she saw the couple together. She began to flirt even more outrageously than she ever had before, but she would never tell Meg why she refused to pick one of her suitors and settle down.

So time progressed, and eventually the day came which Meg had both longed for and feared for many months. Phillipe came to call on her early one morning and asked if she would like to visit the coast with him for a few days. She readily accepted, packed, and left.

The two vacationed for almost a week, Meg enjoying every moment of her exposure to the sea, Phillipe thrilled by her happiness. Then, on the final day before they were set to return home, they sat, Meg in Phillipe's loving embrace, and watched the sun set over the water.

"Meg?" Phillipe said softly into her ear as she snuggled closer into his arms.

"Mm?" She answered dazedly, lost in happiness.

"Meg, I've known you for a while now, and I can't help but love you more every day I spend with you. I want to spend every day with you. Now and forever. So," he drew a long breath, "will you marry me?"

Meg was silent for a long moment, thinking of what she would lose forever if she married this man, and Phillipe began to despair. Then she turned to face him, kissed him deeply, and said, simply, "Yes."

He smiled brilliantly at her, then kissed her again, long, deep, and sweet. He picked her up, laughing, into his arms and carried her back to the cottage, where they spent the evening lost in happiness at having found so great a love in such a short time.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry the last chapter was so short. To make up for it, this one shall be long. And I think I feel Erik coming on... So, I own none of the characters except Dorotée and Phillipe. Read on!

Regression

The wedding was arranged to take place only days before Christmas, said the letter that Madame Giry received from Meg toward the end of autumn. Madame Giry was surprised by the news that Meg had chosen a suitor so quickly, and that she was enough in love with him to marry so soon. Perhaps, she thought, Meg is trying to make up for love lost with the disappearance of Erik. She stood up, determined not to let Meg choose a husband so quickly without the knowledge that Erik had truly given up on her. So, she renewed her search efforts, though Erik had been gone for over three years.

So it was that she surmised that the mysterious benefactor of the new Opera Populaire could only be the retired Phantom of the Opera. A Monsieur... Marquette. Yes, she had heard Erik use the surname before, when a last name was absolutely necessary for him to get his way. She should have known he would stay around Paris! And to think, he was back at his Opera House after all, and she had never even guessed! She headed off for her old domain now, dead set on facing down the man who had, until now, held the only claim on her daughter's heart.

She came upon him after hours of relentless questioning that led her to the manager's office in the theater. The new Opera House was built, apparently, exactly like the old, but with a few renovations to save time, effort, and money. She walked into the room and found it empty. But if memory serves, there was a lever right here... she pulled a nondescript book in the bookcase, and a panel of the wall swung open to reveal a passageway she had known would be there. She followed it for a few long, silent minutes before coming to a small cavern, Erik's true office. She found him seated before a large desk, papers scattered everywhere, with his head cradled in his hands. His back was turned and he did not hear her enter, so Madame Giry decided to make herself known.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat quietly. Erik whirled around quickly, eyes glowing angrily under the mask, until he recognized the figure in the doorway. His gaze softened into surprise, and curiosity.

"How did you-?" He shook his head. "Madame Giry, you should not be here."

"Erik, are you aware that my daughter is getting married?"

He started, and looked at her, desperate, before he regained his composure. "Why should the affairs of Megan be any concern of mine? She is the one who banished me."

Madame Giry stared at him coldly. "Are you aware, also, that when you disappeared after saving me, she searched for you for weeks?" She saw his features soften into something she could not name, a subtle fear mixed with hope, it seemed.

"And are you aware," she spat, "that for almost three years, until I pushed her back into society, she refused to even look at another man?"

"How could I know all this, Madame?" Erik asked.

"That's correct, how could you know? You were fully aware that she loved you, yet you left without even telling her why, never bothering to speak to her again."

"Madame, you try my patience!" Erik roared, standing up and glaring at her. "You will never understand what it is like to lose the only person you ever cared about, the only thing you lived for! Do you know what utter despair feels like? The night I lost Christine, I was entirely ready to take my own life. I would have, truly- if not for the intervention of your daughter. Seeing her acting with such passion, such spirit made me think that maybe, there was reason to live. She is the only reason I am still alive! When she, too, turned on me, banishing me from her life, I did not know how to carry on. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that I should return her life to her before I died. So I rebuilt the Opera House, in her name. After its completion, I no longer wished to die, but to keep this theater running, as a testimony to my love for her. Do not come in here and accuse me of hurting her! She has hurt me more than you will ever know, but I love her still! Ah, God, why am I doomed to suffer such agony?"

"Erik," Madame Giry said more softly, "you must go to her. She loves you still. I do not know if she will give up the life she has so recently formed for your love, but you have to give her the choice. She deserves a chance, at least. As do you."

She turned and walked out of the cavern, leaving Erik with new and treacherous thoughts. If he went to her, there was the chance that she would forgive him, would fall in love with him all over again. The chance that they could be happy together. Then again, she could deny him, and he could not take such rejection a third time in his life; it would surely kill him as the past two times had not. If he did not go to her, he did not run that risk- but he would also regret not going for the rest of his life. Sighing deeply, he called, "Wait! Madame, if I am to go to her, I need to know where she is."

There was no answer, but a he left the cavern he spotted a paper lying on the ground, with a street name and number printed on it. He waited for the blessed cover of darkness, then went to the address printed. He quietly slipped into an open window and prowled through corridors, looking for he woman who would either become his future or ruin it entirely.

Meg had found it difficult to fall asleep this night, and had lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, wondering, as she did every night, if Phillipe was the right man for her. She cared for him, yes, and he made her so truly happy- but was he her true love? Somehow, she doubted it. He did not kindle the same emotions in her as... as Erik did. She sighed and sat up, knowing that now that she had thought of him she would never get to sleep. She slipped on a nightgown and padded, barefoot, down the hallways, intending to stand on the balcony for a while, gathering her thoughts. As she walked down a corridor, a slight movement caught her eye, and she gasped as she turned around to see a form materialize out of the darkness. She drew breath to scream, but an oddly familiar hand reached out and put a finger to her lips. The hand reached down and grasped hers, and he pulled her, unprotesting, down the rest of the hallway and onto the balcony.

"Erik!" Meg gasped as they stepped into the cold night air. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be here! Go, before anyone catches you with me!"

"It is true, then?" Erik asked by way of answer, lifting her left hand into the moonlight, gazing at the diamond that glinted coldly in the pale glow. "You truly are engaged?"

"Yes, Erik, I am engaged," she said softly, pulling her hand away gently. "There was really no other choice. I am well into my marriageable years, and he comes from a good family. I am happy with him, and he loves me."

"Do you love him?" Erik asked severely, watching her eyes intently.

She drew a long breath. "Honestly? No. I don't. I thought I did, for a long time, when we were first engaged and I was so happy. He is a good man, and I respect him, but I gave my heart away long ago. My love just took too long to claim me." She smiled sadly and placed a palm upon his bared cheek. "I thought he would never return to me after I so stupidly denounced him long ago. I gave up waiting."

"And if he wished to claim you now?" Erik replied, eyes flashing.

"Oh, Erik, it's too late," Meg said, looking away. "I am already obligated, there is nothing I can-"

He stopped her by gently tipping her chin toward him. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and her lips parted, but she only said, "Erik, no, I can't. It wouldn't be right, it's too late for us..." she trailed off miserably.

"Meg," he said, using her name for the first time, "it's never too late for love."

She sighed as he took her mouth in his, slowly, questioningly. She gave in and kissed him back, pressing up against him as the kiss grew deeper, truer, more passionate that either had ever experienced before. Erik moved her back, pinning her against the wall, all the pain and lost love in his life being channeled into his passion now. Meg felt his desperation and returned his love tenfold. Their hands had just began to wander when footsteps echoed down the corridor. Breathless, Meg pushed Erik away.

"Go!" she hissed, shoving him gently away. "You cannot be caught here. I will speak with Phillipe tomorrow... to break the engagement. Meet me at my mother's house at three. We will talk then."

Erik gazed at her with longing, and Meg knew that if she did not force him to leave, now, her resolve would weaken and she would be hopelessly compromised. She waved her hands at him, telling him to leave.

"Adieu, my love," he said softly, stepping forward to kiss her again softly, then turning and quickly disappearing into the shadows.

"Good night, my Phantom," she whispered into he darkness. She stood for a few minutes, taking in all that had just happened, then slipped quietly back into her room to lie awake for the rest of the night, waiting anxiously for the sunrise.


	11. Chapter 11

Aha! Things are finally turning out... Umm, just keep reading. Only two chapters left.

Hidden Angel

The next morning, Meg faced one of the most difficult challenges of her life. She sat next to Phillipe in the parlor of his home and drew a deep breath, looking into his trusting eyes and regretting what she was about to say.

"Phillipe, I have to break the engagement," she said softly, slipping the ring off and handing it to him. He took it, looking confused for a moment, then picked up her hands.

"Darling, if you are getting nervous about this-"

"I'm not... nervous. Until last night, I was completely ready to wed you. Then something... someone came back into my life, a man I never thought I'd see again. Phillipe, I have grown to love you, but you are not the one I am destined for. I know that now, and if I married you I would be condemning us to a dismal future. I would know, always, that I had chosen the wrong man, and I would never be able to love you as you deserve to be loved. I cannot go through with this. I am so sorry."

"Ah, Meg, the worst part is, I understand. I, too, have known true love. There is... a girl I grew up with, whom I loved more than life itself, but when I asked for her hand she denied me. I know what you are going through. Please, know that I fully comprehend your pain right now. Go, with my blessing. I do love you, Meg, and I only want you to be happy."

"This girl... was it Dorotée?" He looked up at her, surprised, and nodded. "Do not give up on her, Phillipe. She loves you, I can see it now. Do you ever notice how strangely she acts when we are around her? Go to her. Explain all that has happened. Eventually, court her again. I do not think she will deny you this time."

There was sudden, new hope in his tear-filled eyes. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Thank you, Meg. For everything," he whispered into her ear. She kissed his cheek back, and silently took her leave. She found herself shortly back at her cousin's house.

"Dorotée, I have broken my engagement and I am returning to my mother's house," she announced when they were alone in Dorotée's room.

"What? Why?" Dorotée exclaimed.

"I am in love, true, deep love, with another man. I could not marry Phillipe and destroy the happiness of all four of us."

"All four?"

"Yes. Me, Phillipe, Erik, and you."

"Me? How would you marrying Phillipe destroy my happiness?"

"I know now that you love him. Do not deny it. I know that you refused his offer of marriage a long time ago, and that you have regretted it ever since. He still loves you. I expect he shall come to call upon you shortly after this is all settled down. Tell me, though, why did you reject him?"

"I was... so young. I was only seventeen when he asked. I had not had a chance to live yet. I was not ready to settle down. After I denied him, he treated me so distantly, so coldly... I never hoped to have him again, more than just a friend. Thank you, Meg. I hope you, too, find the happiness you seek." She hugged her cousin fiercely. Meg hugged her back, then left to collect her belongings.

Within three hours she was back at her mother's house. She walked in the door to find Erik already there, speaking to Madame Giry.

"Erik! What are you doing here? It's not nearly three yet!"

"There were some things I had to discuss with your mother. Come, meg, do not unpack your things just yet. You are moving yet again, if you wish it."

"Moving again?" she asked, incredulous. "Where to?"

"The Opera House. If you like, you shall resume your studies and may continue performing in the theater. If not, you are always welcome to stay here, for the time being. I am sure, no matter what you decide, other arrangements will come up," he added, eyes glinting teasingly.

"Well, of course I'll return to the Opera House! It's my life, really. What about you, Mother? Will she return to be the ballet instructor again?" she asked looking at Erik.

"That is part of what I came to discuss. If you wish, Madame, the position is currently open. There is no one better suited to fill it than you, I'm sure."

"Yes, I will take the position," she said wearily. "But only until Meg is experienced enough to take it herself. I do not wish to instruct the ballet girls forever."

"Oh, Mother! I could never replace you!"

"In time, child, you will surpass my skills by far. No go on, you two, you have much to discuss. Leave the packing of the household to me. Go on, I say!" she admonished, practically sweeping them out the door.

"Erik, I-"

"Meg, there's-" Erik began at the same moment. She laughed and took hold of his arm, his mouth curving into what might be the beginning of a smile, as the two walked down the street.

"Go on." Erik prompted, and Meg began to speak.

"I don't really know how any of this is going to work out, now, Erik. I've given up the promise of a secure future, where I'd have been loved and cared for, all for you. I do not regret my decision, but I just want to know where it leaves me."

"Sweetheart, it leaves you with me, loved unconditionally for as long as we live, living a life devoted to your passion at the Opera House."

"Dancing?" she asked.

"I meant me. But dancing is fine, too." She looked up, shocked, and saw him smiling. He saw her looking at him, so amazed that he had joked, and he began to chuckle. She couldn't resist any longer after hearing a sound that no one else had ever heard, the Phantom's laughter, and she reached up and cupped his face in both hands, pressing him gently into a tree that stood next to the sidewalk, kissing him tenderly. He kissed back for a moment, then slowly pushed her away, to look into her eyes. "Come," he said passionately. "There is much I need to tell you."

He clasped her hand as they continued walking, and she shivered at his touch. "Meg, when you told me I was no longer welcome in your home, I was again ready to die. I had found what I had thought impossible to find again- love. When I saw you standing so defiantly in the cavern, looking for Christine, I felt a spark that I had believed to have been extinguished with Christine's betrayal. When you placed your hand upon my cheek, I thought I would die out of happiness. You felt for me, after all I had done, and it stirred my soul more than I think you will ever know. I could not help but kiss your hand, and the confusion I saw in you then actually pained me. Then you banished me, and the only thing that kept me ave was the thought that, if the Opera House was rebuilt, you could resume your old life, and you might one day forgive me. So," he said, turning a corner in the street, "I built this for you..."

She gasped in amazement at the building in front of her. It was almost exactly like the old Opera House, but so much newer, and Erik had obviously taken artistic license, as the sculptures and statues and carvings were grander, more beautiful than ever before.

"Oh, God, Erik, you did this for me?" she said, amazed. He only nodded, and kissed the hand that he was holding. "It's... It's so beautiful. I... Oh, dear Lord, I can't speak. What am I supposed to say?"

"Say 'I love you'."

"Oh, God; yes, Erik, I love you! Now and always, my Phantom."

He turned and kissed her again, then led her into the building. It was just as splendid inside as out. He took her to the stage, where she would be dancing for the rest of her life, then he led her deep into the caverns beneath the Opera House, to his new lair.

"Oh, Erik, I could stay here always," Meg sighed and leaned into him as he showed her his hidden domain.

"I am glad you like it. If you did not, I would have to find suitable living quarters for us above, with all the performers. It would be much more difficult and much less private."

"For us? Erik, what do you mean?" She turned to look at him. He avoided her gaze, staring into the ceiling but not really seeing it, looking into his heart.

"You should have guessed, Meg. For a long time, I was enchanted by Christine. I had thought she was my Angel of Music, she who would love me unconditionally, who would be there always. I was wrong. It seems as though my true angel was hidden from me. I want you with me always, Meg. I ask you now, will you marry me?"

Meg had begun to cry silently, tears sliding down her face. She nodded, speechless, and when she did not vocalize her answer, he turned to look at her. Gently, he touched one of her tears, then tipped her chin up and kissed her tenderly. He broke off, looked at her strangely for a moment, then picked her up and carried her to his bed. He lay her down, then lowered himself next to her. Brushing the hair out from in front of her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head softly, and held her close until they both fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, deep breath. Here we go, the last chapter. How sad. Well, I hope you've enjoyed it, and I hope my ending is satisfactory. I couldn't help having a "happily ever after". Please let me know what you thought. I own none of the characters in this chapter... Hmm. Well, that's all, folks. Have an awesome day!

Chapter 12 (Epilogue)

Life resumed as it should at the Opera Populaire. The only interruption was the wedding of the owner, Erik Marquette to the new prima ballerina, Meg Giry. It was a splendid affair, more extravagant a wedding than anyone had ever attended before. The entire Opera House was converted, everything was covered in white, and there were literally hundreds of guests. The most stunning of all features, however, was the bride. Her long, elegant gown sparkled and flowed, a graceful train billowing out ten feet behind her, her golden hair was pulled back neatly into an extravagant bun, a fine veil covered her resplendent face. There never was a more beautiful sight. And the groom stood, strong and stern, covered in black from his shoes to his mask, save a single white rose place upon his lapel, matching the bouquet carried by his beloved. The ceremony was carried out without any difficulty, and despite the reception being thrown in their honor, the new couple was nowhere to be found.

"Erik, where are we going in such a hurry?" Meg laughed as he pulled her, practically running, through the passages beneath the Opera House. He did not answer her, only kept moving, until he stopped suddenly before a doorway.

"I had to get away," he told her breathlessly, kissing her neck, her collarbone. "We had to get away."

"Why?" she breathed, seeing the hunger in his eyes.

"Because I, no, we have been denied this for far too long. And what I intend to do is not to be witnessed by a room full of people," he growled, opening the door and ushering her into the chamber. It was mostly dark, lit by only the soft golden glow of a few dozen candles framing the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. The floor, the bed, everything was strewn with white rose petals.

"Erik, the roses..." she whispered. "Why white now, when you were known by red for so long?"

"Because, my love," he said softly, slowly removing her gown, "red was a life full of heartache, pain and betrayal. White, now, with you, for the purity of spirit you have given me, and for the joy and love that will grace the rest of our lives." He plucked the veil off of her head, letting her hair out, pulling her down next to him on the red sheets. "Love that starts now," he whispered, capturing her mouth. She gave in to him and kissed back, completely lost to the joy of this new life, this new love, and the man who had accepted her so completely for simply treating him as a human, rather than the Phantom he had, for so long, tried to be.

Nine months later, a daughter was born to the joyous couple. Erik held the tiny child, his child, tightly in his arms, afraid to ever let go of this dream that was too good to be true. He gazed at her blue eyes, so deep as to shine black, and wept gently for the second chance he had been given. For, leaning over to kiss his exhausted Meg, he knew; this was the start of an entirely new chapter, one filled with hope, redemption, and endless love.

AN: Aww. How sweet! Erik's a daddy. Okay, sorry it was so short. I rather liked how it turned out in my head, though, and I really hope you enjoyed it. Again, please review and tell me what you think. I truly love friendly criticism. Please? Ah, well. It was a nice try. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed at all. It's been fun. To those dozens of people who I know read this story but don't review: What have you been doing? Just, you know, a few words would be nice. Only once! I mean, come on, you could write the word "good" and I'd be happy! And to everyone, as always, happy reading!

P.S.- Have you all read my Erik/Christine fic "Beyond the Mask"? If you like, I rather think it's good, as do my readers, so, please read and review. I really do want to know what you all think, what I can do to make the stories better for you, the readers. So again, read, review, we all go home happy. Gracias to all.


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